5. Neither Alive nor Dead

Aesylt was jolted awake, surrounded by the clangs of armor and the scrapes and squeaks of leather. Dawn pierced through the thick glass.

Scholar. She whipped her head toward his fur, but he wasn't there.

"Up," Drazhan commanded, but he didn't leave it to chance, gathering one of her hands in his with a rough, effortless tug. She staggered to her feet, readying for some obnoxious rant, but when she looked up at him, the rage she expected was absent.

Beyond him were several dozen of his men fanned out in a semicircle. All were armed, like him. The way out was blocked.

"Draz, what is this?" She couldn't stop staring at the line of men ready for battle.

"I won't ask you what the fuck you were doing spending the night here with the scholar because we have a much bigger problem, Aes." He released her and turned toward his men, raking a hand through his stubble. "Are you all right?"

She crossed her arms and took a step back from him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Drazhan nodded to himself. He looked around with hard, wide-eyed blinks. He's anxious. Unsettled. "It was just the two of you up here?"

Aesylt closed her eyes, groaning. Of course Drazhan would make a big deal of nothing, just as he'd been doing ever since coming home. He loved to forget she'd had all the freedom in the world when he was away, and had managed just fine. "Yes, and nothing happened, for the love of?—"

He shocked her with a silencing, crushing hug. "Doesn't matter." He pulled back, sweeping a guarded gaze over her. "Gather only what you need right now. We're leaving."

Aesylt blindly stepped backward, raising her arms at her sides. "Nien. Not until you tell me why you came marching up here at dawn with an army." She searched around again for Rahn. "And what you did with Scholar Tindahl."

"Your scholar is on his way back to the village with the other caravan. He's fine." Drazhan almost spat the words. His mouth twisted in scorn, but it didn't hold. None of his reactions were lasting more than seconds.

"You mean your men dragged him back, don't you?"

He shook his head and then rolled it back, facing the sky. "Aesylt, you just need to come with me now. Please."

"Draz—"

"Please!"

Only once before had she seen desperation like that in her brother's eyes: the night he'd returned from the Vuk od Varem a victor, only to find Witchwood Cross had been razed, their father's and brother's heads greeting him as he stepped through the village gates.

"All right," she said quietly. She darted her eyes around at the men, looking for signs of the answer, but they were solemn monoliths. "All right, wulf."

She waited until they were settled in the cart and driving down the mountain before she asked another question. "It's not Imryll and Aleks?"

Drazhan stared forward. He shook his head.

"Tas? Duchess?"

"Nien."

"It's not... Val?"

"Aes." His voice creaked. "I just need to get you back to Fanghelm. We can talk there."

"Get me back to Fanghelm?" Her restraint slipped away. He was acting as though she was in danger, like he expected an ambush on the road and for her to be taken. The wagons of guards ahead and behind weren't making it easier to discard the notion. "I really think you owe me an answer now, Drazhan."

His stubbornness was immutable though.

Aesylt bundled her furs tighter and stared into the forest on the side of the path, which grew denser as they neared sea level. The fog splitting the range disappeared, and soon they were on the more-traveled section of the road.

The bustle of the village trickled in bits and pieces. The closer they got to town, the deeper the ripples in her brother's tense, thick muscles as he directed the mules through closed-jaw commands and white-knuckle tugs of the reins.

Her own heart hadn't moved from her throat.

When he guided the cart onto the main road, villagers on all sides stopped to watch. They exited their shops and stalls or slowed their wagons and horses. An entire range of sentiments played out across their faces, from curiosity to sadness to disgust.

"Eyes. Ahead," Drazhan ordered.

"What happened?" she whispered, struggling to follow his order. She faced forward, but her eyes flicked toward the sides, trying to read in the villagers' eyes what her brother was refusing to say. "Why are they all staring at us like that?"

Me. They're staring at me.

Drazhan reached over and yanked her away from the edge of the bench to bring her to the center.

Aesylt twisted out of his grip, her confusion turning to anger. "If you want me to fall in line, you're going to tell me, and you're going to tell me right now."

"Almost home," he muttered, grinding the words.

"You're deliberately withholding things from me, because you think I can't handle whatever it is." Aesylt slid hard to her right, gripping the far end of the bench, and leaned half out. "Drazhan, I will jump out of this wagon right now if you don't?—"

Drazhan snaked a hand out and slammed her back down, but when he spoke this time, his deep, confident voice had a crack down the center. "Aesylt..." His hands loosed up on the reins, and the wagon slowed. "It's Valerian. He's returned."

Aesylt's entire body seemed to coil inward, tightening around her lungs, her heart. She tried to breathe before speaking, but her throat constricted around the words, which came out in a rush. "Returned... like he won? He bested the wulf?"

"I just need to get you home, cub."

Her heart plummeted toward the cold wooden floor. "Did he abandon his post? Did he already... Is he..." Aesylt shook her head and grunted. Don't say it. "Drazhan."

"He's alive. But so is the wulf." Drazhan's throat jumped in a hard, protracted swallow. He spurred the mules on, sending Aesylt and himself slamming back from the force. The cart made a sharp turn onto the long approach to Fanghelm Keep. There were dozens teeming around the gates, but when Aesylt craned forward to see better, her brother pinned her back with one arm. Gentler this time, which was worse.

"Fuck," he hissed. The guards in the cart ahead tried to clear the way, but the gates were completely covered with a swarm of villagers. "Don't move."

"What? Where are you going?"

"Don't move." Drazhan hopped out and marched toward the gathering scene. Aesylt looked on in horror as he was circled by angry men, shouting demands she couldn't make out. She started to climb out anyway, but Fezzan Castel appeared on her side of the cart and shook his head at her to stop.

"Fez, what is going on?" Aesylt reached out and grabbed the man's armored arm. "Why are you all wearing your metal? Why is everyone acting like this?"

Fezzan screwed his mouth tight. His nostrils flared. "Better for your brother to tell you, cub."

"I will find a way out of this cart if you don't tell me!"

He stepped closer, his focus still on Drazhan and his other men trying to thin the crowd so they could open the gates. "We don't know." His teeth scraped over his bottom lip, his eyes wide and wary. "I was meeting with your brother about allocations for the meat stores, and we heard shouting near the north end of property, at the forest line, and out from between the trees comes..." He stopped when someone threw a punch at the gates. "Shite. That's Esker Barynov. Stay put."

"Fezzan!"

Aesylt clambered out after him, bursting through the thick crowd of onlookers to get to the center of the melee.

"She was his final witness!" someone cried. "She spelled him!"

Someone grabbed her around the waist from behind, whisking her feet off the ground. She threw a low elbow and they released her, but then someone else had her from the left, pinning her against one coming in from her right. She twisted and squirmed, dropping into a crouch, but a boot crashed into her face, and she went sprawling onto her back.

"Grab her! Grab the koldyna!" someone said, muted and distant, as she clawed along the ground, dodging boots and mud and legs. Her head swam from the kick, but if she could get to the gate, she could climb, and maybe she could finally see what had caused so much violent confusion.

Something grabbed hold of her foot and swung her upward until she was dangling, her hands grasping for the ground. She screamed and wriggled, but more hands came to help her assailant, until she was surrounded and pinned, her breath ripped away with every crush and press of their fevered hold.

Aesylt spat blood into the dirt. She watched it sink into the mud as she was carried away from the gates, from the carts, from her brother. She screamed again and again, squirming and swinging her arms wildly to strike everything she could.

"Draz—" The word was choked by the leather of someone's leg. She tightened her knuckles and swung as hard as she could into the shin. Her vision filled with stars from another swift kick.

Then she was crudely dropped, and she landed on her neck, tumbling sideways. She took in a mouthful of cold rocks and spit, scrambling, but then the darkness of her flock of kidnappers spread away, revealing the bright morning sky.

And Drazhan.

He knelt and scooped her up with one arm, pointing his ancestral sword, Stormbringer, with the other. "No one else has to get hurt today, but the next man who touches my sister meets the Ancestors."

Aesylt buried her face in his chest and breathed in the comfort of his strength.

"None of us know what happened out there, but we are not solving it like this." He backed them slowly toward the gates. Most held their distance, but a half dozen or so followed, bloodlust imprinted in their hungered gazes. Aesylt recognized all of them. They were good people, friends of theirs. None of it made sense.

She remembered the dagger in her boot and swung her leg up to catch it, drew it, and wielded it out to the other side.

"You wouldn't be protecting her if she weren't your sister," Esker Barynov said, pushing through the crowd. He'd drawn his sword as well, circling them from the side. "She was his final witness, Drazhan."

"Steward Wynter." Drazhan threaded the correction through his teeth. "If you want to act like a savage, Barynov, disrespect my house and blood, then you'll address me as your steward."

"She was his final witness! And we all know she's just like her mother! I know all about how she can travel?—"

Drazhan pressed the tip of his sword against the hollow of Esker's neck. Gasps ripped around them, the only sound other than the heavy, labored breaths of a cooling mob. "One. More. Word."

Esker's nose flared, his eyes trembling as they narrowed into catlike slits. "My son is neither alive nor dead. He's an abomination. A failure. Someone must answer."

Drazhan twisted his sword, and a stream of thick blood poured from the superficial wound. "If you want to speak like men, then we'll speak like men. But I can just as easily remove your venomous head from your shoulders."

"I didn't do anything to Val," Aesylt croaked. She reached for her throat but recoiled at the budding bruise. "I swear to you. I don't even know what's going on right now."

"You were his final witness, girl, the one who sent him into the forest filled with foul magic. And now the wulf has brought him back to us. Dishonored before the entire village!"

Aesylt's jaw trembled. Tears blinded her. "What?"

Esker's smile was dark and dangerous as he leveled it on her. "You're a koldyna, Aesylt. Just like your mother was." As soon as the word spewed from Esker's mouth, everything around her returned to chaos. Clangs of clashing steel rang in her ears, drowning out any sense of coherence. She clung to her brother, her eyes closed, and prayed for a reprieve.

She was jolted when the gates swung open, but she hardly had time to register that before she was transferred from her brother's arms to the embrace of another.

"Take her to your apartments. Lock the doors. Quickly!" Drazhan barked.

"I have her." Rahn. He leaned down and gathered her legs under his opposite arm, then swept her against himself like she weighed no more than a feather. "Hold on, Aesylt."

"Go!" Drazhan screamed. It escalated to a grunt as Stormbringer crashed against another sword.

The shrill clangs and screams faded with every jostling step. Aesylt buried her face in the scholar's neck and blocked out the world.

Rahn kepthis eyes on the window as he poured some tea. Drazhan and his men had subdued the rabble, but the trouble was just beginning. He replayed the word in his head, koldyna, a terrible slur for witches who communed with the demon realm. In Vjestik culture, there were few things more dangerous or reviled. And now Aesylt had been branded with it, and Rahn had a dark, sickening feeling such an accusation wouldn't be so easily forgotten or set aside.

Aesylt lay curled on his settee, under the thick blanket he'd lain over her when she'd started shaking. She hadn't said a single word from the moment he'd swept her from Drazhan's arms. Little color had returned to her cheeks.

"Here." He put the mug on the table and lowered himself onto the armchair across from her.

"Not thirsty," she muttered. She stared at the fire with a vacant gaze, her breathing slow but unsteady.

"Maia brought it by. Said it would help your nerves."

Her eyes fluttered closed as she pulled herself up with what seemed to be great effort. He started forward, but she tucked her chin and shook her head. She cupped the mug with both hands, apparently unbothered by the steaming heat, and after a slow, drawn swallow, she said, "You're going to tell me what you know, Scholar."

Her face was smeared with fading abrasions, her clothes torn. He'd cleaned and dressed her wounds, and her vedhma had healed them. The memory of that morning, however, would leave none of them soon. "Unfortunately, I don't know very much, Aesylt."

"Then tell me what little you do."

Drazhan might have been trying to protect her by not explaining things, but Aesylt was not someone who would be satisfied by half-truths. He breathed deep and began. "From what I understand, just before dawn, a wulf came from the forest dragging... dragging Valerian by the ankle. He was unconscious and badly injured but alive. I heard Fezzan talking to your brother, and they said nothing like that has ever happened before. Either the wulf lives or the boy lives, but never... this. There are whispers that either Val or the wulf was spelled. Most seem to believe there's some sort of dark magic involved. No one can explain it, and so they fear it." He inhaled deep and breathed out. "That's all I know. I'm sorry."

"Was spelled by me. That's what you're not saying."

Rahn frowned. "Once cooler heads prevail, they'll know how ludicrous the accusation is."

Aesylt winced but nodded. "Thank you for telling me." She took another sip before setting her tea aside. "I suppose visiting Val is out of the question."

"Undoubtedly."

"Where are Imryll and Aleksy?"

"In their apartments. Tas and Teleria are with them. Everyone is safe."

"Everyone inside, you mean." She contorted and tucked her legs under her. "Why weren't you there this morning?"

Rahn glanced again at the window. The thinning crowd provided some relief, but he'd never seen such fear as he'd witnessed in the eyes of the villagers when they'd stormed Fanghelm, desperate for answers and consolation... anxious and afraid of the repercussions the entire village would suffer as a result of the unprecedented event. "I was outside for a morning stretch when the carts came up the hill. Drazhan sent me back with several of his men to help secure the keep. He didn't allow me the opportunity to tell you myself. I'm sorry if my absence caused you any distress."

Aesylt picked at the fresh bandage on her arm. "In Vjestik culture, wulves are omens. Messengers. Everyone will try to decipher their message, and the guessing, the supposition, will bring this village into civil war if Drazhan can't get a handle on it."

Rahn studied the tight flex in her cheeks, where her dimples bedded, and the same motion at her temples as she must have bitten down on her tongue. Her questions so far had skirted the one she should have asked, the one he knew she wanted to. "Your brother offered to have Val convalesce here at Fanghelm, where the Wynter vedhmas could set him to rights, but the Barynovs wouldn't hear of it. They won't even dispatch their own vedhmas. They're refusing any healing at all, until they have answers. The irony is Valerian is the only one who can provide them."

"I didn't ask about Val."

"I know."

"They've branded me a koldyna."

Rahn breathed out. "I know."

"There is nothing worse to the Vjestik. We take it so seriously, even accusing someone is a crime, without proof."

"Well, they can't prove it, can they? Because you aren't a koldyna, Aesylt."

She looked down at her hands, her head shaking. "Whatever the wulves are playing at, it has nothing to do with me."

"We both know men are rarely rational when they're afraid," he said. "When Valerian wakes, he may be able to fill in the missing pieces of this strange tale."

"I just don't understand..." Aesylt bowed forward and raked her hands through her hair. "Nothing like this has ever happened before."

"All things can be explained eventually," Rahn said. "And heads will clear in time." Even as he said the words, he wasn't sure he believed them. Drazhan Wynter was not a man who feared anything, but when he had placed his sister into Rahn's arms, the men's eyes connecting for the briefest moment, Rahn had seen pure terror there.

"You don't even believe that," Aesylt said, scoffing.

"Read my mind, did you?" he said lightly.

"I need to go find my brother." She pushed forward, trying to rise, but fell back with a swoon.

Rahn shifted quickly to the settee, one arm behind her in case she lost her bearing again. "He wants you here. Whatever's going on out there, he needs to focus without worrying if you're in danger."

"Didn't take you for a Drazhan fan," she muttered but then relaxed, leaning against him with a defeated sigh. She pulled her knees to her chest with a shivering sigh. "This is a proper mess."

Rahn nodded, exhausted. Whatever sleep he'd garnered at the observatory had been used up in the past hour. "It seems so."

"You know how I know it's a mess? Drazhan asking you to lock yourself away with me. Oh the scandal if others find out."

His brows lifted. "It's not a scandal if there's nothing to talk about."

"You think that ever stops a wagging tongue? Why do you think we're in this mess?"

"It's just until he can clear the trouble at the gates. He'll be back soon."

She looked up at him, her crystalline eyes heavy and dark. A soft pause scored the air between them. "I had an idea for how we can solve your curricula problem."

Rahn gave her a light squeeze and stared into the crackling hearth. "I'm not worried about our research right now."

"You should be. The support from our Vjestik elders is just as critical as the Reliquary's endorsement. If we fall behind, they'll pull their sons and daughters from the cohorts. When the village turns on something, their shunning is total."

With one researcher near death and another being accused of dark magic, their studies were the last thing on his mind, but if talking about it kept Aesylt grounded, he'd listen. "What's your idea then?"

Aesylt sat up and met his eyes. She reached for one of his hands, breathed in, and whispered, "And another with me."

Rahn gasped at the startlingly abrupt change in his surroundings. His rich furnishings blended with everything else into a dull sepia. A violet settee had become a muted lavender. The gold tapestry on the wall was a haze of soft bronze and blurred design. And there was a shimmer in the air, one that inexplicably made him think of stars and sky. Everything was like that, everything except?—

Except him and her.

"Is this..." He turned his hands over before his eyes, but they were the same as they'd always been.

Aesylt nodded. She pivoted until she was facing him head-on. "Welcome to the celestial realm, Scholar."

Rahn ran his hands through the air in wonder. He couldn't decide what to focus on. His thoughts were a blur. "I've never been confronted with so much I can't explain."

"I can bring you here whenever you want." She glanced to the side. "As I told you last night, nothing anyone does here has consequence in the real world."

Rahn shook his head, struggling to catch up as he tried to confront what had happened, what was happening.

"If you and Tasmin need a place to conduct your practical experimentation for the upcoming curricula..." Her throat bobbed with a brief glance away. "I can bring you both here. Give you a safe place without worrying about anyone crying indecency. You can do everything here that you can do out there, but nothing you do here follows you into the real world."

"Tasmin and me?" Rahn's head spun between the surrealness of sitting in a world not his own and Aesylt's stunning offer. "No, no that's not... Besides, she's leaving for Whitechurch soon. I'll find another way."

Aesylt moved to her knees and lifted up until they were eye level. Without warning, she kissed him. Her smooth lips brushed softly over his with a gentle whimper that lighted something in him long dormant. Something dangerous. "You see? That didn't happen."

Rahn, breathing hard, backed away. "How can you say it didn't happen?" His hand traveled to his mouth, his disbelief still forming.

"Because it only happened here."

"Are you saying my memory won't return with me to the real world?"

"You'll remember, but it won't matter. It happened in a place where nothing matters." She lowered onto her heels. "You must continue the work, Scholar. Drazhan is going to pull me away from the cohort—I know it in my soul—and I need to know you will continue. This is a dark moment. That's all. It will pass, and when it does, we still have important work to do."

Rahn stood and paced toward the window. The sepia land beyond was devoid of people, unlike the one they'd left behind. They had the entire world to themselves. His lips buzzed, still drawn to the recent past, the warmth of a young woman who had left an indelible mark on him the moment he'd met her. But it was wrong to feel that way. Wrong to desire what could never be his. To even think of Aesylt in those terms, to have or not to have, was wrong.

Shewas wrong as well. It mattered.

"Scholar?"

"You're upset. You have every reason to be. Every damned right to be." He dragged his hands against his mouth to erase the imprint of her. "But that can't happen again. In here or out there."

Her laugh was short, humorless. "But it didn't happen. That's my point."

"This isn't the way," he said, tossing his head. He reached for the windowsill and saw his hand was trembling. The taste of her lingered despite his efforts.

"Have I crossed a line?"

"No. No, you were... You were making a point. But the point has been made, and we need to?—"

"And now we return."

Rahn pitched forward when the world shifted again. The color and vibrancy returned, sending his mind reeling and fighting to catch up.

"I wasn't sure, but I had a feeling," she muttered.

Soon enough, he understood why she'd brought them back so abruptly.

"Cub." Drazhan slammed the door and charged in. He tossed a glance at Rahn and then moved to Aesylt and knelt before her. "I'm sorry I scared you. Val is alive but gravely wounded. His pigheaded family won't allow any vedhmas in, not even their own, and I don't know what it means for his future. But the Barynovs are out for blood. Your blood. And they can't fucking have it."

Rahn caught Drazhan's eyes. In the quick connection, an understanding passed between them. The danger to her life is very, very real.

"I swear to you, Draz, I didn't?—"

Drazhan reached for her face and brought it to his, pressing their foreheads taut. "I know. I know you didn't. But the Barynovs are telling anyone who will listen that you did. It's not safe for you beyond Fanghelm, Aes. Not right now." He kissed her nose and stood. "Adrahn, I need something from you."

Rahn inhaled a shaky breath and nodded. "Anything."

He flicked a nod at Aesylt. "You and I both know this one won't keep still unless she has something to occupy her."

"If you're going to talk about me like I'm not here, I'll leave," Aesylt snapped.

"How can I help?" Rahn asked, hiding a smirk.

"Val is out of the cohort, clearly. Nik's family needs to maintain their neutrality. Tas has decided to move up her trip to Whitechurch. Elara is being moved to Jasika, for reasons Imryll explained, but I can't remember now." Drazhan swished his mouth. "So my sister is your partner now."

Rahn squeezed the sill, nodding. The kiss hammered his thoughts from all sides. Never again. "You want Aesylt and I to continue working? Together?"

"That's what I said."

Imryll's secondhand scolding came back to him. Drazhan, for all his gratitude about the matter of the tree, still saw Rahn as a threat to Aesylt's honor. His heart sank, realizing how bad things must be for him to suggest they spend hours and hours together, alone. Drazhan must have felt the best option was to keep Aesylt occupied with something productive—and rightly presumed Rahn would have more sense than to cross a line. "If that's what you need from me, then of course."

"Good." Drazhan broke his gaze and clamped a hand atop Aesylt's shoulder with a tight smile. "Focus on your research, cub. Leave the rest to me. It will blow over."

"I don't get a say in this?" Aesylt asked. "You're just going to keep deciding for me, like I'm eight?"

Drazhan's brows furrowed. "I thought you'd be happy you get to continue."

"It's fine." She crossed her arms and retreated onto the couch. "I'll be a good little soldier, wulf. Don't worry about me."

Drazhan sighed. His eyes fluttered back toward Rahn. "I'll sort this mess out. She's your responsibility until I do."

"Fucking archaic notions of men," Aesylt hissed under her breath.

"What's that?" Drazhan asked, though he'd clearly heard.

"Nothing." Her smile was saccharine. "Don't worry about me, frata. I have a stalwart protector here, a strong and powerful man to keep this little damsel from doing anything foolish."

Drazhan shot her a bracing look and started to turn. "Ancestors be with you, Adrahn," he muttered and stormed out. His armor echoed down the halls and then disappeared.

Rahn leaned against the window with a sigh.

"You're relieved of Aesylt duty," she said with a flippant shrug of one shoulder. She tossed the quilt away and jumped to her feet. "I'm going to the Barynovs to sort this out. If something happens, I'll be sure and tell my brother it wasn't your fault."

"No." Rahn massaged his throat when the word creaked.

"What did you say?"

"No." He found his voice again. He said it again, more firmly. "You're not going anywhere."

Aesylt spun on him. "Excuse me?"

Rahn marched to the door, digging in his pocket for his keys as he swept by her. He locked both bolts, turned, and found her wearing a flushed glower that was part surprise and part indignant rage. "If Drazhan needs me to help keep you safe so he can work matters out with the Barynovs, then it's what I'm going to do." When she lifted onto her toes with a menacing glare, he didn't back down, not even when her face was close enough for him to feel her breath. "I'm not a man who walks away from his responsibilities, Aesylt."

"I am not your responsibility," she said through clenched teeth. "And we can't continue our research anyway, can we? The other women are out of the cohort. The men too. If you think anyone is sending more to join us after what happened this morning, you don't know the Vjestik. So who are you going to conduct practical experiments with? Yourself?"

Nothing we do here matters.

Rahn swallowed a hard lump. "I don't know. I haven't had enough time with my thoughts."

"And when we have nothing to send to the Reliquary in a fortnight, when the next report goes out, what do you think will happen?"

"I said I need time with my thoughts." He dusted his hands along her tense shoulders, sighing. "But I will think of something. I promise."

"There is one answer," Aesylt said with a proud tilt of her chin. Her eyes seemed to shake in their sockets, narrowing in a challenge issued. "The question is whether your commitment to the science is bigger than the man inside of you... whether you're capable of removing emotion and moral and ethical inhibitions from the equation." She rose higher on her toes. "But most of all, it comes down to whether you have the courage to defy my brother for the greater good of the realm."

Rahn's heart pounded against his ribs, ready to burst. What she seemed to suggest, it went beyond scientific boundaries. If he could find his words, he might explain it in a way she would understand, but he couldn't speak at all.

"I've died a dozen deaths while starwalking. I've kissed. I've hunted. I've climbed mountains. I've killed. I've done things I never could or would do in this world, and I am who I am because of it. Sometimes I think those experiences are the reason I'm still alive at all."

Aesylt lowered back to the ground with a light sigh that was quite the opposite of her charged delivery. "So I can put the emotion, the ethics, the morals aside for the sake of the research, Scholar, because I've been doing it my whole life. Can you?"